JUST RUN
by LittleBirdieChan
Summary: Norman can see ghosts. Lately he's been seeing a lot more things. Awful things. And when he suddenly encounters these two men explaining his situation, Norman's more than petrified as to why.
1. PETRIFIED

**ENJOY ~**

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Norman can see ghosts.

And lately he's been seeing a lot more things. Awful things. People with solid black eyes, people with oddly pale skin & a jawline full of razor sharp teeth, people who can literally change body, color, shape & form. Basically every other inhuman being seen in horror films & books. Blood, guts, murder, but nothing like that was compared to the horrific nature of . . .

 _. . . THEM_.

Norman had been running for a week's worth of days now. NON-STOP. In that amount of time he'd probbaly jumped at least one or two states out of Blythe Hollow, Massachusetts. Home. Where his dad was probably having a stroke right about now, his mother probably worrying sick, & his older sister, Courtney, probably driven insane on the account of their parents bickering about him missing. The only person who knew Norman's whereabouts was his best friend Neil, & he was probably wigging out right about now too. Norman hasn't called every four hours, like he promised he would before he left. But for those close around Norman, he had to disappear. Far away. He didn't want anyone getting hurt or in worse case possible . . . _killed_.

Monsters were chasing him.

About two or three of them. Massive beasts, that he couldn't quite make out, but Norman knew they stood about ten feet tall each taking canine features. He could clearly hear & feel them though. Whenever they were close Norman could distinctly make out their low, nasty, growls. Their thunderous stalking shook the very ground beneath his feet. If they should ever catch Norman off guard, he swore they could tear him apart, just from a single snap of their jaws. And if that wasn't bad enough Norman couldn't hide. They'd just sniff him out after a couple of minutes later.

He was exhausted & dissoriented from the lack of sleep. Norman could barely run. He was wounded in several places. The worst being the nasty gashes on his lower left cheek, his swollen bruised knees, the ripped flesh on the left side of his torso, & his favorite red hoodie shredded into pieces. Petrified was the word that ran in his mind. Norman was completely & utterly PERTRIFIED. What did these beasts want with Norman? If they wanted to kill him they would've just done it by now. Or maybe they just liked playing with their food in some sick game of chase. Just the thought of that made him violently ill.

The fact that it was the middle of the night, lost, in some unknown forest, didn't make him feel any better. The beasts seemed a lot stronger at night, or maybe Norman was just getting weaker. He could hear them from behind. The beasts were closing in, twelve feet . . . ten . . . eight. Norman was wheezing, his lungs begging for a breather, but he couldn't just stop. His mind wouldn't allow it.

It's suddenly when Norman falls upon a highway road, on all fours. On the edge of hyperventilation, his legs finally gave up. To his convenience, a vehicle's headlights were coming in at Norman at a rapid speed.

"Oh no!" He exclaimed.

Norman figured he was going to painfully die either way from exhaustion, getting hit by a car would most likely be quicker. He yelled bracing himself for impact, but found that the vehicle went veering to a massive stop on the opposite of the side of the road from Norman.

Two white men, probably brothers, in their late twenties, quickly stepped out of their vehicle looking rather hysterical at Norman. One was shorter than the other, he had a crew cut, wore a brown leather jacket & jeans. He was the first to speak by extending his arms with his palms in the air, like, "What the hell? What's a kid doing in the middle of a road?"

The other man was few inches taller, had a mop of hair, in the same fashion as the first only he wore a green jacket.

"Calm down, Dean!" He said looking concerned on the account of Norman's hysterical face, he then walked toward him, hands raised empty, in defense. "Are you all right?" He knelt down in front of him.

"Keep away from me!" Norman exclaims.

"It's all right!"

"It's NOT safe to be around me. You have to leave, NOW-"

"What?"

"SAM!"

Loud gun shots were fired in the air . . .

. . . the sound alone made Norman black out.

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 **NOTE: I noticed the LACK of SUPER/NORMAN crossovers, so I thought I'd write the first one. Pfft!**

 **COMMENT, FAVORITE, FOLLOW, or WHATEVER. It doesn't really matter to me, but it'll be MUCH appreciated. THANKS FOR READING! xDDD**


	2. LIKE A HORROR FILM

**ENJOY ~**

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Norman was in & out of consciousness. As far as he knew, he was carried off onto someone's back, & into their vehicle. The drive was uncomfortable. He was curled up on his left side, sunken in the cold leathered back seat & heard the motor run very loudly, not to mention, vaguely hearing two men arguing. The only thing Norman caught before he completely lost consciousness was a panicked voice saying, "No. Dean, NO!" Like he was refusing to do an impossible task.

Then another subtle, but very loud voice, seeming like he gave in, after what Norman had to guess was a very long argument, said, "FINE." then begrudgingly, "We'll take the kid to Bobby's, find out what his deal is."

When Norman came around the second time, he felt like he was being cradled safely to bed. Like his mother did sometimes whenever he fell asleep watching a long marathon of zombie horror movies in front of the living room's television. But the actuality of it was entirely different & almost as horrifying as being chased by a couple of monstrous canine beasts for an entire week.

. . . _ALMOST_.

Norman snapped his eyes wide open & immediately felt violated.

He had woken up to one of the two men that nearly ran him over back on the highway. The short one with the crew cut. He looked rather unnerving, having a solid grip on Norman's bare right arm with one hand, & with the other holding a silver hunting knife, scribbles engraved on its blade, over Norman's ruddy skin. Not even inches away from piercing Norman's forearm, he did the only thing a freaked out kid would do in this situation. He yelled. This startled the man, but only gripped harder on Norman's arm.

"NO. Kid! Hey! It's okay-"

Norman struggled to free his arm, but then took his other & drove the palm of his hand under the man's chin. Which then sent him falling a couple of feet back. Unfortunately for Norman, he had gotten sliced either way by the silver hunting knife, leaving a nasty long gash. He hissed at the pain. Then immediately gathered his surroundings.

He was sitting on a bed that hung tightly on a wall by its huge hinges. It was set up in a strange circular room. The walls looked to be completely made out of iron. Easily mistaken for a giant bank safe. Only it wasn't. Not really. On the account of Norman noticing strange faint engravings & red marks on the floor, the ceiling & the exit. The room also had a bookcase filled with a huge assortment of fat old rusty looking text books & journals. A desk with a fold up chair, & he could've sworn he spotted a weapon arsenal somewhere.

"Okay! _OW_." The man grunted as he was gathering his composure, "That was seriously uncalled for!"

Norman drew in a sharp breath as he locked eyes with the guy. The guy then noticed the scared look on Norman's face, clearly knowing what he was thinking.

"Wait-" The guy said pointing a finger, as a forewarning.

But Norman didn't listen. He made himself like a deer in headlights & hurtled for the exit. He stumbled the minute he got out of the circular room, finding his knees painfully sore. It occured to Norman he had forgotten he'd been running for his life. Which was an understatement considering that he still was, but instead of monsters, it was a man. Probably some mental, sick, weirdo, freak, who got off by the sight of blood trickling down on little boys' arms.

Norman quickly dragged himself to his feet & found a staircase turning to his left. Escaping out of a creepy basement with a display of different types of guns, knifes, & a variety of iron made items. It looked like some freaky torture chamber straight out of a horror movie.

He ran up to a thin hallway. Next to his left another staircase. Cherry wooden. One that still went up another floor. Next to his right was an open space, which he had to guess was the living room. It looked more like a messy archive, filled with an astounding amount of books, binders, & fat old journals just like the circular room downstairs. They were stacked waist high up, into huge disorganized piles. Norman then looked forward & found a door. Hopefully an exit. Almost breaking into a sprint, Norman did a double take as he spotted someone occupying an old, uncomfortable, fancy looking couch in the living room.

It was the other man, back at the roadside, the taller one with the neat shag of hair. He caught his breath & slowly stood as he took notice of Norman. He appeared to be having a mug of hot coffee with one hand & holding a newspaper in the other. He stood rather still, staring reluctantly at Norman. Or rather . . .

. . . _BEHIND_ Norman.

Upon a horrible realization he dropped his mouth wide open, completely forgotten about the other guy down in the torture chamber. Norman was forcefully hoisted up from the ground by the waist. He groans as he starts pounding his fists on the guy's buff forearms.

"LET GO!" Norman yells.

"C'mon kid! Stop freaking out!" Cried the guy keeping him captive. "SAMMY! A little help!"

The one in the living room nearly spilled his coffee & rushed in the ruckus. "Hey! Kid, it's all right, you're safe-"

 _Yeah right_.

Norman ignored the one named Sammy, & it was then he started kicking his feet. Norman landed a foot in the guy's ribcage & another under his chin, sending him to ground.

"SAM?" Yelled the first guy.

Winded the guy on the ground said, "I'm all right!"

The one named Dean nearly lost his grip on Norman's waist, Norman then elbowed him in the jaw. Sending both of them falling backwards. Norman rolled into a crawling position, eyeballing the door he was hoping was the exit. Before he even thought of sprinting toward it, he was grabbed roughly by the ankle by Sam.

Then there was a sudden appearence of a third person. A round man. Looking like animal hunter, with a faded cap, a vest & grizzly stubbled face. Matching his appearance in an even more grizzlier voice, he yells "WHAT in hell's name is goin' on here?"

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 **NOTE: COMMENT, FAVORITE, FOLLOW, or WHATEVER. It doesn't really matter, but it'll be MUCH appreciated. THANKS FOR READING! XDD**


	3. BITTEN

**ENJOY~**

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Norman was seriously prepared to kick his captor's face in. But then the mood of the environment completely changed.

"Hi. Bobby." Heavily breathes out Sam, who was keeping a solid grip on Norman's ankle.

The other one, Dean, that got elbowed in the face, sat up looking very displeased. Massaging his cheek, he regarded the round man that was standing over them, with a nod.

Judging by their two chafe inwardly expressions, Norman guessed that the much older, very intimidating guy, was the top boss. He shook his head & scoffs a little irritably, "Idjits."

Bobby nearly said something else, but then he was startled by a sudden pounding coming from a different room. "Aw. Hell. What now?" He grumbles as he storms off.

Norman noticed Sam & Dean giving each other reluctant glances.

"Balls!" It was then Bobby sped back into the thin hallway looking rather spooked.

Dean stood. "What is it Bobby-"

More pounding. "Open up Robert Singer. It's the police!"

Norman's nightmarish suspicions confirmed. He was totally dealing with latent criminals.

"Well you heard 'em! It's the damn fuzz!" Bobby hissed. "Try not makin' any noise."

Norman cringed when the three men gave him all enormous threatening looks. He swallowed a hard lump that's been present the minute he woke up in this unknowningly scary place.

"We'll take care of him." Sam nodded. "Just answer the door."

Norman vaguely made out a short woman, tan, with dark hair pulled into a messy bun, in what appears to be an authority uniform. Next to her was a man, ebony skinned, that had a few inches on her, with a neat shaved head, in fancy grey suit. Bobby seemed to have cracked a few jokes, although Norman wasn't so sure on the account of how very insulted the suit guy looked. Suit guy then waved a file in his hand & took out a small photo from it. Bobby grew absoulutely silent.

Norman's heartbeat did quick jumping routine when he found that the photo was oddly familiar. He could hardly see it, but he knew it was the photo his father kept in his wallet. It was a little bit folded up from its corners, rusty, worn. But Norman knew it was the picture of his father. Big guy, dark hair, ruddy skin, comfortable on a lawn chair. With Norman's mother, small woman, light honey colored skin, cherry blonde hair, with her whole posture resting on her husband's shoulders. Norman's sister, having similar features as their mother, hair caught in a ponytail, giving a little annoyed pout staring at the camera. Then his little lanky self next to her. All together in front of their suburban home.

Norman's lip quivered. It hadn't occured to him that his family would call a search party. Then again Norman didn't update on his whereabouts to his best friend Neil in who knows how long. Norman shook the distress that had almost taken over him & told himself to get a grip. Instead he focused on the thought that he needed to escape.

No.

Rather, he saw an escape. He was just a little hesitant to make a move. He noticed that the two guys that were suppose to keep an eye on him, were completely distracted by Bobby, talking to the two authority figures. Sam, had long let go of Norman's ankle, & stood next to Dean, with his arms crossed. Revealing very muscular arms. Norman would totally hate to be caught in those. Plus he was tall. Very tall. Kind of intimidating, but not really, considering he had a pretty boy's face. Dean wasn't much different, aside from his height. He was a few inches shorter. Norman considered the fact that they were siblings on the account of how simliar their small round noses looked. _Yeah. Brothers in crime._ That certainly had nice ring to it. Either way, Norman was completely outnumbered if he added the old round man named Bobby.

Finding himself still on the floor, Norman decided to crawl a few good feet away. He needed to grab the police woman's attention. Seven feet away . . . then nine . . . into the living room. Just when Norman thought he could actually pull this off, he the mistake of standing up, knocking over a huge stack of books. He dropped his mouth open instantly whipping his head back, noticing Dean giving an urgent slap on Sam's arm & pointed at Norman.

"HELP!"

Startling the police woman & the guy in the suit. Bobby regarded them that it was a distant relative visiting, horsing around. The guy in the suit looked very questioningly at Bobby almost as if he didn't believe a single word.

Once again, Norman was in the clutches of his captors. Dean made sure he wouldn't get elbowed in the face again, by restraining Norman's arms, crossing them over his chest. That didn't stop Norman from kicking or screaming though.

"HELP! I'm going to DIE!"

Suit guy then demanded to be let in, but Bobby insisted that his so called a nephew was rough housing with his cousins.

Dean had forcefully clasped a hand over Norman's mouth. With the help of Sam, they carried him away from the living room. It was then Norman took drastic measures.

"OW! DAMMIT!"

"WHAT-"

"SONOFABITCH. HE BIT ME!"

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 **NOTE: I TOTALLY LIKED THE ENDING OF THIS CHAPTER! (LOL)**

 **COMMENT, FAVORITE, FOLLOW, or WHATEVER. The story, me. It doesn't really matter but it'll be MUCH appreciated. THANKS FOR READING! XDD**


	4. LOW GROWL

**ENJOY ~**

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Norman managed to escape.

Who'd thought a simple savage bite to a muscular hand, & a solid kick between a stranger's legs would do him such wonders? When he ran out of the place, he was surprised to find that he came out of a huge ranch house in the middle of the day. The property surrounding it consisted of several acres of wooden fence, outbuildings, tall trees, & a huge salvage junkyard, stacked in, & covered with wrecked cars. It felt like it was in the middle of nowhwere. Which gave it a total slasher movie vibe.

Norman spotted the guy in the suit & the police woman. Unfortunately they had gotten into an authority vehicle & started to drive away. Norman tried to chase the car, calling out, waving his arms in the air like a total lunatic, but it was useless. They had driven far to the point where they couldn't see him. All that was left was a gust of wind. Blowing toward Norman's feet was the family photo from the file the suit guy had. Norman lifted it up to his face, getting all misty eyed.

Something thin & very, very hard hit Norman's temple, & he was out like a light. All he heard before he hit aspalt was, "A _CROWBAR_? Really, Dean?"

Being unconscious wasn't the most greatest feeling in the world. It wasn't at all like sleeping. Sleeping meant security. Safetly tucked into bed. Having a peaceful dream & whatnot. Being unconscious you don't dream, you lose your sense of time & it almost felt like you wouldn't wake up. When Norman finally got around to open his eyes, he was really grateful, relieved, even. He was back in the giant iron safe with the strange symbols engraved the walls, ceiling & floor. He sat straight up, immediately regretting it, for he felt a severe shot of pain coming from the side of his head. Trying to blink away the spots that had formed within his field of vision, he felt like he was about to collapse again. When the blinking didn't work he squeezed the space between his eyes, finding that his right forearm had been neatly bandaged from the cut he had gotten from the weirdo holding a knife over it. Norman took in a sharp breath when he heard echoing footsteps coming toward his way. The only exit & entrance had been unlocked.

Entering the scene was the appearence of the two scary men from before.

Well. Not so much as _SCARY_ , now that Norman had gotten a pretty look good at them.

Both of the guys looked like they were in their late twenties. The intimidatingly tall, with a muscular built, with a neat shag of brown hair, seemed pretty harmless, but Norman guessed it was because he had a handsome face. The shorter one, however, greeted Norman with what looked like either the smuggest look ever, or had a hey-trying-my-best-not-to-be-really-angry face, & Norman's pretty use to that face (his father always gave that one.) The guy had short cropped hair. Either dark blonde or light brown, Norman wasn't sure. He also had green eyes, & a 5 o'clock shadow.

"Mornin' sunshine!" The guy with the smug look said, pulling out a fold up chair from a nearby desk. He had it so that the backrest was pressed against his chest when he sat in front of Norman. "Hope I didn't hit you too hard on the noggin."

Norman felt his face burning. "With a CROWBAR?" He replied through his teeth.

"You heard that?" The tall guy sighs.

"Look, kid, I didn't mean to knock you out cold." Short guy said then. "But I didn't want to get kicked in gut again from your epic tatrum. You know?"

Norman gave his best glare. "You also didn't 'mean to' hold a knife over arm, right?"

Tall guy scoffs. "Oh, man. You didn't."

"Okay! I know that looked bad, but-"

"How about keeping me in this freaky weird looking torture chamber?" Norman continued. "Maybe restraining me, keeping me away from the police?"

"Uh-"

"Look, if you want to kill me just do it already!" Norman then rose to his feet, clenching his fists. "Just leave my family alone. It's all I ask!"

"Whoa, whoa!" The short guy raised his hands. "Kill you? Look, kid-"

"Norman! My name is Norman Babcock!"

"Norman," Tall guy said. "Okay. I think we got off on the wrong foot here . . . My name is Sam & that's my older brother Dean. We rescued you. Don't you remember? Back at the highway."

Norman plopped back on the bed he had woken up on, & lifted a shaky palm to his forehead. "Rescued me?" He mutters.

Suddenly it went silent for a good few long minutes. Noting, Sam & Dean giving each other reluctant stares. It was then bits & pieces had suddenly flooded back to Norman. Running away as far as possible from the nasty growls. The thunderous stalking. The horrible snarling. Norman had quickened his breathing without even realizing it, unintentionally muttering, "From WHAT?"

Sam wrinkled his forehead & Dean answered, "That's what we want to know."

Another silence . . . but it was quickly interuppted by a low growl that completely startled Norman & even the two brothers.

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 **NOTE: Feel free to COMMENT, FAVORITE, FOLLOW, SHARE or WHATEVER. It doesn't really matter, but it'll be greatly appreciated. THANKS FOR READING!**


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